


Sapphire and Rose-colored glasses

by Tashilover



Category: Red vs Blue
Genre: F/M, Genderbend, dub-con, gender swap, girl!Tucker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter where you are in the universe, people treated you differently if you're a girl.</p><p>A girl!Tucker fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Is it mine?"

Church had said it so gently, Tucker jerked her head towards him, her sickness forgotten for a few precious seconds. Church wasn't even looking at her. His head was down, _shyly_ if you could believe it. As he waited for her answer, he fiddled with his fingers. The man was nervous. Tucker has never, _ever_ seen Church nervous in her life.

"No," Tucker finally said. "It's not."

"Oh," Church said. Did he sound _disappointed?_ Holy shit. "Then do you know...?"

"Well, that's the big question of the fucking day, isn't it? No, I don't know. I haven't slept with anybody in a month-"

"A whole month? You ARE sick."

"-go fuck yourself, Church. And I had my period two weeks ago. So whatever this is? It wasn't conceived in the traditional sense."

Out of all the dumb-asses in Bloodgulch, Church was the only one capable of becoming a father. Well, the others were capable, but those morons should never reproduce. Truth be told, if she had a choice, Tucker wouldn't have minded if Church was the father. He was a decent man, and Tucker was sure he would take care of her.

But Church was also still in love with Tex. Until he finally lets her go, there was no way Tucker was going to stand in between those two. It'll be suicide.

"Shit," Church breathed. "Then what the fuck is going on? Okay, okay, I'll do some investigating. Maybe I should send Doc away so I can actually call a real doctor here."

He started moving towards the door, then paused, turned back and said, "Um... just so you know, you might start getting some visitors. Caboose... told everyone you were pregnant."

"WHAT!"

"Kill him, not me!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the beginning Tucker thought it would be a good idea to sleep with the enemy. Try and gain their secrets while they were under her. But she soon realized the Reds were all fucking idiots and they couldn't hold a secret between them if they tried.

Sarge was actually a decent fuck. He was experienced and knew what he was doing. But it took so long for him to get it up, it was almost not worth the effort. Still, he was rather sweet and called her several- if not stupid- affectionate nicknames during their time together. It was nice.

Simmons could've been nice if he wasn't so nervous. He kept stuttering throughout, and every time Tucker demanded he should be rougher with her, he would squeak in offense. "I am a gentleman!" He said. "I would never do that!"

"Simmons, all I asked you to do was slap my ass."

His cheeks turned beet red. "But... that's so naughty!"

Grif fell asleep on top of her. It took Tucker nearly five minutes for her to roll his fat-ass off of her. He didn't even finish and when Tucker questioned him about it later, he said, "Look, my upper body strength isn't the greatest and I got tired! So sue me."

So yes, Tucker did sleep with them all, but it happened months ago and anybody with half a brain should know if she had gotten pregnant from them, she would have been showing by now. Then again, she forgot whom she was dealing with.

The first person to visit her was Sarge. He sat down on the bed Tucker laid on, and patted her calf as he proudly said, "I knew this day would come. I was always hoping the war would be over by then, but as my mother use to say, 'Shit happens!' And then she drove away to join a winery in California. Now that I think about it, her saying _shit happens_ was her response to my question of WHY she was running away. So maybe I shouldn't take her advice. But don't worry, Private Tucker, I won't abandoned you to a California winery. I don't drink wine anyhow. Tastes too much like grapes. I don't like grapes."

"What the FUCK-" Tucker hissed, sitting up. "-are you on about?"

"The baby, of course! I promise you I'll be a good daddy!"

"It's not yours!"

"Oh," Sarge's shoulders slumped. "Well... um... my congratulations to you and Church-"

"It's not Church's either."

"Oh dear lord, please don't tell me it's Simmons' or Grif's."

"No, it's not."

"Oh thank god. Wait... it is Caboose's?"

"GET OUT."

 

 

 

 

The second to visit was Caboose.

"Tucker... where do babies come from?"

"OUT."

 

 

 

 

Finally, Simmons and Grif visited her at the same time. They walked into her room without saying a word, stood at the foot at her bed and waited.

Tucker groaned. "It's not yours, either."

Both of them whooped. "Sweet! See ya!"

 

 

 

 

 

Tucker spent the rest of the day in bed, curled up with a pillow against her chest. She was in pain, she was hungry, and frankly, she wanted to cry. When she signed up for the military, she thought she was going to become some bad-ass space warrior and fuck equally bad-ass warriors. Instead, she was stuck in the middle of god fucking nowhere, surrounded by the biggest idiots on this side of the galaxy. AND she was pregnant.

She wanted her mom.

The sounds of steps coming into her room caught her attention. "It's not yours!" She yelled without turning around.

"I know." Church.

Aw, fuck. Tucker sniffled and quickly wiped away any offending tears off of her cheeks. "What do you want?"

"I just want to know how you're doing."

"Mmm'fine. Go away."

She didn't hear him leave. Instead, she heard him move closer and the mattress near her knees dipped.

"Look," he began. "I know... you're upset right now. You're probably also really scared. But I want to let you know whatever happens, Tucker... I have your back. And... Caboose has your back too. And I think the Reds will too, if it comes down to that. Whatever happens... we have your back, Tuck."

Tucker snorted and slapped a hand over her mouth when it became more of a sob. "You cheesy Hallmark bastard," Tucker giggled tiredly. "Thanks."

The speech wasn't as reassuring as Church probably wanted it to, but Tucker did feel a bit better. Yes, everyone in Blood Gulch was a goddamn moron (including her) but they were HER goddamn morons. For better or for worse, they were here.

Then the baby turned out to be an alien. Fucking figures.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mild slut-shaming, dirty talking, mild sexy-times.

Washington stared at her. "You slept with _Church_?"

"Yeah, man," Tucker said, shrugging. "It's no big deal."

"But he's an AI!"

"Dude, love the fact you're stating the obvious, but it gets kinda old after a while."

"... Texas didn't try to murder you?"

"Oh, once she found out she did! I hid in a small cave for like, three weeks trying to avoid her."

Good old holey, Tucker thought back with fond memories. It smelled like manure and there were spiders the size of her fist living there, but better fist-sized spiders than Tex. At least with the spiders, if Tucker got bit by one, she would leave a beautiful, busty corpse behind. Tex wouldn't leave a body. It would be as if Tucker never existed.

"Did you sleep with everyone at Blood Gulch?" Wash asked in horror. "I mean, Caboose-"

"Whoa, I didn't sleep with Caboose! C'mon, dude! In the beginning, I only slept with the Reds cause I thought I could get information out of them. You'd be surprised what sort of secrets guys are willing to give up during sex. I actually once got a guy to tell me the pin number on his bank account. Oh, don't look at me like that, I only took enough to pay for lunch for the next three days."

"I..." Wash shook his head in disbelief. "Once we get rescued, you're going to get a full physical."

Tucker froze. The sharp prickle of anger stung the back of her throat. Did he just imply...? He fucking did. "Hey! Fuck you! I may be promiscuous, but I'm not dirty! I used condoms."

"Then how did you get pregnant by an alien?"

"First of all, asshole," Tucker hissed, her voice getting low and dangerous. "Don't bring my kid into this conversation. Junior doesn't deserve this shit. Secondly..." Tucker was about to explain how she never had sex with the alien and he infected her while she slept, but telling Wash that was going to open up a whole can of worms she didn't want to deal with. Besides, it wasn't any of his business. "Secondly... go fuck yourself."

She turned to leave. "You know, back in basic, there were dozens of guys with the same fucking stories. They used to boast endlessly about their multiple partners and sexcapades. They were all so proud. I wonder, Agent Washington, had I been a dude, would you have still made that suggestion or would you have shaken my hand in congratulations?"

With that, Tucker stalked away. She didn't care nor wanted to know what was Wash's response. He was a guy, she could easily guess.

 

 

 

 

 

 

An hour later, Tucker heard Wash walking up behid her. She knew it was him. Caboose occasionaly skipped, Sarge liked to stomp, Simmons dragged his feet, and there was always the sound of munching coming from Griff. Wash was the only one in the entire squad who walked like a regular human being. "What are you doing?" He said to her, exasperated.

"I'm trying! To fix! The radio!"

"By... beating with the end of your gun."

"Well, it worked for you."

Stupid fucking radio. Didn't want to fucking work. Stupid Caboose and his stupid robot. Right now, Tucker wanted Wash to be right, to have someone out there who wanted to kill them. At least then it would give her the excuse to unleash violence on someone who deserved it. Tucker had been striking the radio for about a good five minutes now and she hasn't put a single dent in it at all. Either this was the strongest radio in existence or Tucker really needed to exercise.

"Tucker..." Wash started. "I came by to apologize to you."

Tucker stopped beating the radio. She waited.

"It was wrong of me to accuse you like that. To judge you. And you're right... had you been a guy, I probably wouldn't have made that comment. I guess I need to unlearn a lot of things. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"Holy shit," Tucker breathed, turning around. "You're actually being sincere."

"Of course I am! Carolina and Texas wouldn't have let me off the hook, so neither should you."

"Actually, if I was Carolina or Texas, you would be on the ground right now, cupping the remains of your mangled balls."

Unconsciously Wash moved his legs closer together. "Yeah..."

"Huh," Tucker said. "You know, I'm surprised you actually apologized. I mean, this is the military. If I got pissed off by every jackass who made a mysogynist joke at my expense, I wouldn't be speaking to anyone right now. But, uh... I do appreciate it."

"Wait, so you're saying everyone here has made sexist jokes towards you?"

"Everyone except Caboose. But don't worry about it, I've seen their dicks. The moment they try to start shit, all I have to is start describing what their weiners look like. Shuts them up quickly."

"I see..."

"Yeah."

Well this was certainly different. Church sometimes apologized for his shitty behavior, but it was always short and curt and he didn't really care if Tucker forgave him or not. He was an asshole like that. It was fucking surprising Wash had not only apologized, he meant it, and then promised to do better next time. Tucker couldn't help grinning at him. "Sooooo... do you wanna fuck?"

Wash choked on spit. "WHAT?"

"I said, do you want to-"

"I heard you," Wash said. "Tucker, I... you're... look, you're a very attractive woman, but I'm your commanding officer-"

"Not right now, you're not, remember? Caboose is."

"That's not the point-"

"Are you gay? Cause it's fine if you are. Though if you're trying to get something from Grif or Simmons, good luck on that, because I think those two only have eyes for each other."

"No, I'm not! I- wait, Grif and Simmons? Really? I- no, no, that's not what I want to focus on. Tucker... as much as I am attracted to you-"

"Ah ha! So you do think I'm hot."

"-it still doesn't change the fact I am an authority figure. I'm your boss. The dynamics are way too different and it's not fair to either of us to pursue a relationship when I'm in a position of power."

"Whoa, dude, I was only asking for sex, not a relationship."

"What if _I_ want a relationship?"

"Oh."

Tucker felt her cheeks burn. Her heart sped up. For the first time in a long time, a girlish thrill spread through her chest, making her feel shy and young. "Oh..." she said again, turning her head away.

Truthfully, Tucker has never really been anyone's girlfriend. Being in a relaionship meant _commitment_ and _babies_ and eventually marriage, and she wasn't sure that was something she wanted. Sex was just easier to deal with. But after having Junior and Tucker realizing being a mother wasn't as bad as she thought, perhaps those other things were just as... good?

"Right now, we're too busy trying to stay alive," Wash said. "Once we're rescued and we don't have to worry about starving to death or getting blown up by a giant killer robot... then do you want to have dinner?"

Oh god, oh god, oh god. Tucker was panicking, unsure what to say. For the first time she was unable to think of a single sex joke. This was so embarrassing. She wasn't a fourteen year old girl anymore. She was a bad-ass mother fucking space warrior. A gentle smile shouldn't disarm her so easily.

Yeah," Tucker finally said. She was blushing so hard, she was sure the fan in her helmet was working overtime. "That would be... cool."

A second later they were interuppted by Caboose who was mentioning something about Simmons crying in a corner. Tukcer only half-listened. She was too busy trying to quell her beating heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That night when Tucker went to bed, a small set of wild flowers had been left on her pillow. The sentiment was so sweet, she decided she was not going to tell Wash she had horrific allergies and by placing them on her pillow, he had doomed her to a night full of sniffling and sneezing.

Still, Tucker thought, reaching out to pick up the very tiny bouquet made of five flowers. There were two bright yellow, daisy-like flowers, and three purple ones with pretty blue leaves. It was really sweet of him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah, there was no fucking way Tucker was going to wait till they were rescued.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Tucker!" Wash gasped. His lips were quivering. "Please-! I..."

Tucker continued to nibble on his ear, shamelessly pressing her breasts against his chest. Wash's hands were scrambling on the wall behind him for purchase, his face a deep red of blush. Good lord, when was the last time this guy got laid? Then again, if any of the other female Freelancers were like Tex or Carolina, then the answer was probably years. He was so sensitive, this simple technique of kissing his ear could probably make him come.

"Do you want me to stop?" She asked, moving back just enough so she wasn't touching him anymore. She grinned wildly when she saw how _broken_ he looked, desperate and needy. "If you don't want this, I'll stop."

Wash screwed up his face, holding onto that last bit of self-control. His hands were still shaking against the wall behind him. Gloriously, Tucker saw the moment his resolve snapped like a dry rubber band and she gave out a triumphant whoop.

"Whoo-!" Was all she was able to get out before Wash grabbed her, twisted her around to pin her against the wall and started kissing her fiercely. Immediately Tucker lifted up one of her legs to wrap it around his torso, and grinned when he moved in to help her, hoisting her up by her thighs.

Ohhhh, yes, yes, yes, this was one thing she loved about military men. All of them were so fucking built. It felt amazing for Tucker to run her hands down Wash's back and feel rock-hard muscle. Fuck yeah. She could also feel scars on his back, and that was fucking hot. She wanted to ask where he got the particular deep ones near his shoulder blades but Wash didn't seem that keen on talking. He was more focused on sucking a bruise on her neck.

Just when it started to get really, really good, Wash unexpectedly pulled back. He was breathing hard, trying to maintain some self-control and said, "We should stop."

"What?" Tucker said, confused. "No, no, we should not stop. We should keep going. Going felt good. Let's keep going in that direction."

She pulled up her shirt to reveal her breasts. She was satisfied to see how Wash's eyes greedily drank in the sight. Tucker was proud to say she had the second biggest breasts of the girls. Sister was a double-D, followed by Tucker in a C-cup. Tex was a modest B, and Carolina was the smallest of them all. Grif once stupidly made a commnt on how small her breasts were and she immediately smacked him to the ground.

Tucker blanched as Wash achingly grasped Tucker's shirt and pulled it down to cover her tits. It looked like it hurt for him to do that. "We should stop," he said again and slowly untangled Tucker's legs from around him. He gently lowered her to her feet. "We have limited medical supplies and... condoms are not among them."

Really? That's why he wanted to stop? Men were so fucking stupid. "You have a mouth, don't you?" Tucker hissed, pulling Wash back closer to her. "So fucking use it."

Wash's eyes grew wide by that declaration. Suddenly he snorted and started giggling, burying his face into the crook of Tucker's neck as he crooned, "Oh god, you're going to be the death of me."

"Fuck yeah, I am," Tucker said. She guided his hand downward because he had fingers he could also use, goddamn it. "Once I'm done with you, you're not going to move for a week."

"Uuuuunghhhh..." Was all Wash could say.


	3. Chapter 3

Kinball was right; the glowing lake of radioactive death was immensely pretty. Tucker looked out over it, feeling the urge to strip off her armor, dive right in and swim. She never got many opprotunities to swim as a kid. The local pools near her neighborhood were always crowded or broken. She vowed once all this shit was over, she was going to take a nice long swim somewhere. Grif said he was from Honolulu, right? He should know some good spots.

"Skipping training?"

Tucker casually looked back to confirm it was Felix and not Palomo talking to her. She was so not in the mood for that boy's bullshit right now. "I'm taking a break," Tucker said, turning back towards the lake. "Just felt like... being alone."

"Oh. Do you want me to leave?"

"Nah, it's a free country. Wait, I actually don't know if it is. I know jackshit about this planet."

"Actually, that's one of the rights the New Republic is trying to fight for," Felix said, walking up next to her. "The freedom of transport, the freedom of-"

" _Alright_. You don't need to break down their Declaration of Independence to me. I get it."

"You're thinking of the Bill of Rights. And also, a bit touchy today, aren't 'cha?"

Tucker's shoulders dropped. "Sorry," she said tiredly. "I'm just... frustrated. Five days isn't enough time to turn these recruits into capable soldiers. Fuck, it doesn't help _I'm_ not that capable of a soldier."

"You're not that bad, Tucker."

"'Not that bad' is still 'not good enough.' How am I going to save my friends if I can't even get myself together?"

Oh god, oh fuck, she was only a few seconds away from crying. Tucker bit down on her tongue, determined not to do so. There was no fucking way she was going to cry in front of Felix. She would kill herself before embarrassing herself that far.

"Tucker," Felix said gently. "Look, the Feds are douchebags, but they're not savages. They treat their prisoners fairly. Even if you don't get Kimball's approval, it doesn't mean you signed your friends death certificates. They'll be fine, I promise. Take my advice: don't go on this rescue mission. You're right, you and your team are nowhere ready. Instead, use the time you have here to learn, continue to raise the morale of the troops-"

"I can't let this opportunity pass by! This may be our only chance to rescue them!"

"You're not going to help them by getting yourselves captured or killed! You already got two men killed due to your actions, do you want the rest to die too?"

Tucker lashed out at him. Felix was so much more taller than her, faster than her too. He ducked down underneath her swing, then quickly raised his arm, blocking her next blow. Tucker moved forward, wanting to hit him, to release the frustration that's been building up beneath her chest this entire time.

The prick wasn't giving her anything. Felix dodged every punch, every swipe, moving out of the way like she was standing still. Tucker started to get desperate, lashing out more erratically, throwing in moves she copied (badly) from Carolina. The moment she did that, she managed to clip Felix across the jaw.

It was more of a tap than anything else, but it was obvious Felix had enough. With a growl, he grabbed Tucker's wrists, twisted her around, and pushed her against the cave wall, holding her there. "Calm down," he said.

"Fuck you!" Tucker struggled against his grip.

"I am not going to let you go until you've calmed down."

Why? Calming down wasn't going to help. It wasn't going to make her into a better fighter, turn her team into a better soldiers. She tried to be calm, she tried to be patient, and so far, it got her squat. She was a lover, not a fighter, but if she didn't fight, nobody was going to do it for her.

Slowly Tucker sagged in Felix's grip and stopped struggling against him. "You can... uh, you can let go now."

"Can I trust you not to hit me?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

Felix waited a second longer, then stepped back, releasing his hold. Tucker rotated her wrists, testing them.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Felix asked.

"I'm fine," she said. "Show me how you did that."

"Did what?"

"That manuever. In basic I was taught all the standard grabbling moves, but that was some kung-fu shit. Show me how you did that."

"It's not super complicated. Watch. Bring up your arms again. Yeah, like that. And when your enemy swings, you move forward, bring your arm down and..."

Felix pinned her again, this time without the strength. "There, you see?"

"Yeah," Tucker said, studying the position she was in. Both of her arms were up against her head, Felix's hands over her wrists. There was only a few inches of space between them. "Alright, how do I break out of this?"

"Well, you have a few options. Being this close, you can headbutt me or bite my throat, but we're both wearing armor, so that option is out. Your legs are free, so you can try to kick me, but if I step in like this-"

He stepped forward, pressing his whole body against Tucker's.

"-it prevents you from moving freely."

A surge of blinding panic went through Tucker, and she wrenched her grip out of Felix's loose hold. She shoved him backwards. "You prick!" She seethed. "Did you just use some sort of _rape move_ against me?!"

"You told me to show you how-"

"I didn't know at the time the whole purpose of pinning me against the wall was to-"

"Whoa! Hold on, now! Need I remind you you were attacking _me_ just a few moments ago? I am within my rights to protect myself. I was just trying to stop you without hurting you."

" _Fuck_ ," Tucker turned away. "Right... sorry, sorry..."

Back in basic, all of the female cadets had an extra training class seperate from their male cadets. They bought everyone downstairs to a private room where their female commanding officers were waiting for them. Everyone thought it was a surprise medical screening. It wasn't, it was an anti-rape class. They spent the next six hours learning how to get out of certain holds, what to do if they believe they've been drugged or attacked. Tucker actually had a date that night and she broke it off, telling him she wasn't in the mood anymore.

Once, in Blood Gulch, Tex pulled her aside and asked her if any of the Reds or Blues had made unwanted advances towards her. Tucker remembered how Tex crossed her arms over her chest, squaring her shoulders, waiting for Tucker's answer. Tucker was sure had she said yes, Tex would have neutered them all before killing them.

But that wasn't true. Church was an asshole, Caboose was an idiot and the Reds were also idiots. That was literally the worse of their sins.

"Tucker," Felix started. "You should get some rest. A good night's sleep will help. Who knows, maybe tomorrow you might actually get a hit on me."

"Yeah," Tucker said wearily. "Thanks, Felix."


	4. Chapter 4

"Round one: Felix!"

Tucker groaned. "Oh god, you're such a douchebag!"

The worst part of this whole thing? Tucker was actually trying to hit him. She needed him to talk, sure, but if she could get a few slashes in there, maybe take off his entire arm, she would feel better about allowing him to kick her ass.

Unlike the Reds and Blues, Felix had no qualms about hitting a girl. Every time she came at him, he swatted her aside, kicking her in her ribs, knocking her across her helmet. He laughed at her grunts of pain. At one point she swung at him, and he stepped sided her, grabbed her arm and slammed her against the nearest wall.

He towered over her, using his height to intimidate. "Hey Tucker," he whispered. "I'm totally using a rape move on you."

With a yell she tried to stab him with her sword. He dodged the swipe easily, kneed her in the groin and threw her to the ground. "Oh fuck!" She cried out, cupping herself. "You bitch!"

"Why are you complaining?" Felix asked joyfully. "You don't have balls, Tucker! None of you dumb-ass mother fuckers have balls. Every single one of you, the New Republic, the Feds, are all a bunch of useless losers! It was so easy to manipulate you, to convince you to kill yourselves willingly!"

Tucker was pretty sure she was bleeding in her mouth. She achingly stood back up, sword at the ready. "Keep talking, asshole."

"Well, I... oh, ho ho! You'd like that, wouldn't you? I just realize, I haven't seen your friends in a while. I wonder if they're trying to get the JUMP on me?"

He twisted around with a shot grenade in his hand, pointing right at Sarge and the others. Simmons cried out, "Oh no, he spotted us!"

It was all part of the plan. They knew they were going take a few hits and prepared themselves to look like they were losing. Tucker knew this, and yet as she watched the grenade detonate, her guts turned sourly inside. "NO!" She cried out, rushing forward.

She was also prepared for what came next. The blade entered her, stealing her breath, and she knew something went horribly, horribly wrong. "As long as he doesn't hit any arteries," Dr. Grey had said. "I can repair anything!" The blade was nowhere near an artery, but it cut something important.

"Ironic," Felix said, placing a hand over her visor. "I wanted to penetrate you, but I guess this is close enough."

He shoved her back.

Tucker wanted to continue laying on the ground. The thought of getting up was insane. But she needed video proof too, otherwise someone could accuse her of faking the evidence. Biting her lip, Tucker forced herself to her knees. She held her head up to catch Felix's overly dramatic monologue.

"He's talking, Tucker," Church whispered to her. He was trying to keep calm, but she could hear the slight panic in his voice. He too knew how bad the stab was. "You were right, it's working."

Blood seeped through Tucker's fingers, splattering to the ground below. Still she maintained her position. Finally when it looked like Felix was going to kill her, she giggled. Oh this was going to be so GOOD. "I don't know, man. I think I'd rather be rich than a fucking asshole. What do you think, Church?"

Felix's reaction was something Tucker was going to remember forever. If she lived that long to see it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tucker stared down at the new set of scars on her abdomen. Her mother always said to be proud of the marks on her body. Stretch marks, moles and scars was the body's way of roadmapping its journey, and every imprefect piece of skin told a story.

Across her belly, thin and straight, was Tucker's cesarian scar when Junior was born. Despite all of the insults and rude remarks, Doc did an incredible job. The scar was barely visible, it didn't hurt, and frankly, Tucker was proud to have it. She thought it made her look more badass.

Felix's knife was a jagged, dirty tool. It had cut through Tucker, ripping her skin so badly it made it near impossible to stitch back together. The wound then got infected, a raging fever followed soon after, and Tucker spent the next two weeks at the medical bay in Armonia, going in and out of consciousness.

"Tell me, Captain Tucker, how do you feel?"

Tucker groaned and leaned back against her bed. She was so tired, but she didn't want to sleep anymore. Her whole body ached, her throat was dry, and the wound in her lower stomach vibrated with a dull ache. "Like shit."

"Well, after taking a eight inch knife inside of you, I expect so!" Grey giggled. "I'm afraid you will have to stay in bed for another few more days."

Her bright smile dulled, and she when she spoke again, her voice took on a more serious tone. "However, I do have some bad news, Captain."

Tucker froze. Oh god, what was it? Were her legs gone? Oh fuck- did someone die? Everyone looked fine after the grenade explosion, but sometimes those vibrations can cause the brain to slowly shut down. Before the fight Carolina gave the healing unit to Tucker; what if Carolina needed it more? That wound in her leg had not fully healed yet, her body wouldn't be able to withinstand having it reopen for the third time.

Dr. Grey sat down at Tucker's bed. This woman was Tucker's age, however in that moment, Tucker felt like she was five years old, sittng next to her mother. In a very gentle voice, Dr. Grey quietly said, "When Felix stabbed you, he also severed your fellopian tubes. I did my best to repair them, but the infection did too much damage. I'm afraid having children will be impossible for you."

Tucker stared at her. She sucked in a harsh breath, then suddenly began to laugh. " _Oh thank god!_ I thought you were about to tell me I couldn't walk anymore or some shit!"

"You're... not upset about this?"

"Oh, fuck no. I already have one kid, and he's good enough for me."

"I'm sorry, I assumed you and Agent Washington..."

"At this point, Doc, Wash and I are just fuck buddies. We're... we're not there yet."

Yet. Tucker was not going to dwell on why she felt the urge to add that little bit on. Having kids was such a huge no-no for her. Junior was an unexpected but welcome surprise. She was fine being the mother to Alien-Jesus. It's not like she thought about giving Junior siblings or something. And... and-and if Wash wants kids, then that was his problem.

A few tears dribbled down Tucker's cheeks. She wiped them away hastily. When more fell, she grunted, "This is so embarrassing. I don't want kids. So why am I...?"

Dr. Grey pulled her into a hug. "There's a big difference," she said. "Between making that choice, and having it taken away from you. It's alright to be upset.

You don't need to explain."


	5. Chapter 5

Tucker missed McDonalds so much, she had dreams about it. She woke up sometimes in the middle of the night, reaching out for her tray of french fries, a Big Mac, and chicken nuggets. The food on Chorus wasn't bad, but due to lack of resources, the meals they had were more or less the same from day to day. In the morning it was porridge. Lunch usually included a bowl of soup, fruit and a meat dish. Dinner was the same, but without the soup. Sugar was so scarce, many have forgotten what cookies even looked like. It was no wonder Bitters ate Grif's packaged cream pie without checking the expiration date first.

The porridge they served was not bad, persay, but when you've eaten it for the billionth time in a roll, it started to taste more like glue than food. Tucker patiently stood in line to get her bowl, her eyes wandering over the crowd to spot her friends. She ignored Palomo who kept waving her down.

She spotted Donut first. He was already sitting with the rest of the Reds and Caboose. Carolina was absent as always. She didn't eat breakfast. According to Church, he said she enjoyed sleeping in and always took the opportunity to do so whenever she got the chance.

After getting her bowl of flavorless porridge, Tucker joined the others. "Hey guys."

"Hey," everyone answered in their own way. Caboose gave a little wave, Simmons nodded to her politely, Sarge grunted, and Grif ignored her and continued to shovel food into his mouth. Donut was the only one who greeted her a, "Good morning Tucker!"

Something was off about their little group here. As Tucker mixed her watery breakfast with a spoon, she studied everyone, trying to pinpoint what was different. "What's with Grif?" Tucker asked suddenly. "Usually he's more vocal in his eating."

Which was an understatement. The very first time the Blues shared a meal with the Reds and experienced Grif's eating intensity, Caboose had started crying. The usual sounds of his unbelievably loud slurping was gone.

Simmons groaned. "Don't encourage him to eat loudly! What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, the big baby," Sarge said. "He's upset because Agent Washington finally got him to train this morning. He's probably too sore to eat his usual way."

Tucker balked. "What! We've been here for months and only NOW Grif started his training?"

"You're one to talk," Grif mumbled. "You get out of training all the time."

"What? No, I don't. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, c'mon! Don't tell me you don't get special privileges from Wash just cause you're sleeping with him."

"Dude, trust me, that shit don't work with him. One time I rode him like a fucking rodeo-" Simmons choked on his water. "-and once we were done, he still made me run five miles. So no, I don't get special privileges cause I'm sleeping with him."

"Can we please talk about something else?!" Simmons begged.

Caboose started, "How about we talk-"

"NO."

"Oh yeah?" Grif sneered at Tucker. "Watch. Here comes Washington now."

It was amazing how popular Wash was among the soldiers. As he walked through the mess hall going towards their table, he was greeted from both sides of the armies. Not even Tucker got that kind of admiration from the Feds.

"Good morning everyone," Wash greeted them. He took his usual spot next to Tucker. "Good morning, Tucker."

"Hey," Tucker mumbled, suddenly very self conscious. It didn't help everyone else was staring pointedly at them and not being subtle about it.

"I got you something," Wash continued. He pulled out a small glass bottle from his pocket and placed it on Tucker's tray. The liquid contents inside were golden in color.

"What's this?"

"It's honey."

Tucker gasped. "Holy shit, dude!" She squealed happily, grabbing at the bottle. "Where the fuck did you get honey?"

"Doyle cultivates bees. He only has a single hive, and this small amount is all he could spare. The rest is used for other reasons."

Tucker immediately opened the cap and started pouring the honey out over her porridge. "Dude, dude, DUDE! I can't believe you got me this-!"

Grif cleared his throat loudly, and Tucker stopped pouring, suddenly remembering where she was. "So, huh, Wash," Grif said. "Did you bring any honey for the rest of us?"

"Uh," Wash shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, fellas. Doyle can only spare so much each day. Maybe tomorrow you can get some."

Grif stared at Tucker. _Special privileges_ , he mouthed.

"You know what, Grif?" Tucker snapped at him. She took the last droplets of honey and smeared them on her lips. "Fuck you."

She grabbed Wash by the chin, turned his head towards her and kissed him in full view of everyone. In surprise he dropped his spoonful of porridge with a loud clatter and knocked over his glass of milk. Once Tucker pulled away, Wash cupped his mouth, licking his lips rapidly as his cheeks burned. "Tucker! I told you not to do that in front of others!"

Unashamed, Tucker turned back to face Grif with a huge shit-eatin grin on her face, mixing her porridge with deliberate movements. Grif gave her the middle finger.

Simmons got up from his seat. "I'm going to sit somewhere else."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"...and you know what? Grif was right, maybe I am giving you special privileges-"

Tucker snorted. "I get more honey from those little packets they give out free at Chinese restaurants."

"That's not the point, Tucker!" Wash yelled. "Just because we're sleeping together does not mean you're allowed to embarass me in front of my men! I am an authority figure-"

"You don't even have a rank!"

"If you treat me like a joke, others will see me like a joke-"

"Wash, you're hanging around us. Any dignity you had evaporated the moment you decided to call yourself a Blue."

Wow, Tucker didn't think Wash would be this pissed off about breakfast. She thought he would laugh it off as he usually did when Tucker pulled shit like this, but she guessed she went a step too far. The moment they were done eating, Tucker had suggested a quickie. Wash agreed, but instead of giving Tucker an orgasm like she thought he would, she was getting a verbal talkdown about ethics.

"Even more," Wash continued hotly. "You didn't kiss me because you wanted to, you only did it to piss off Grif! I don't want our relationship to be used for your petty vendettas."

"Relationship?" Tucker echoed. "All we do, Wash, is fuck. We get up, we talk about missions, then we fuck. We go on missions, and if we don't die, we fuck. Not exactly a romance for the ages."

"So, what? You don't consider yourself as my girlfriend?"

"Not really."

That small promise of dinner so many months ago never came to be. Every meal they had was in the mess hall, surrounded by sixty others. They didn't sleep in the same bed. Tucker had to sleep in the women's quarters while Wash was stuck with the guys. (Tucker didn't mind this too terribly. Caboose liked to sing himself to sleep) The person who greeted Tucker in the morning and at night was Carolina. They rarely went on missions together as Kimball preferred to use the former Freelancers for different things.

Wash looked hurt at Tucker's words, his face pinching. "Why not?"

"Aw, c'mon Wash! Man, how can I consider myself to be your girlfriend when I don't even know your _first name!_ "

"It's David," Wash said flatly.

"Yeah, I've been calling you 'Wash' for so long, I am never calling you David. What sort of couple only greet each other using their last names?" She paused. "Wait, what is your last name? It's not actually Washington, is it?"

"No, it's..." He trailed off.

Tucker raised an eyebrow, waiting. "It's...?"

"It's complicated."

"See? There, right there is what I'm talking about. Wash, we don't know shit about each other. I know only half of your name, your general age, and I know you like it when I play with your balls while I'm sucking you down."

"TUCKER!" Wash squealed.

"Well, it's true! Look, I get it, we're in the middle of a war, so we can't exactly go out on dates and shit. That being said, I don't appreciate being held to a certain girlfriend standard when all we've done with each other is fuck and fight."

Wash was quiet for a long minute. Tucker hated having conversations like these. It made no one happy, it never led to sex, and frankly, why the hell was Tucker trying to ruin a good thing? She _liked_ Wash, that should be good enough.

The sound of approaching footsteps ruined any chance of Tucker apologizing. Wash immediately stepped away from Tucker, squaring his shoulders back just as Carolina turned the corner.

"Am I interuppting something?" Carolina asked, looking in between the two of them.

"No," said Wash, somewhat coldly. "Is there something you need?"

"Uh... yes. Kimball wants your opinion on the new fortifications."

"I'll be right there."

He gave Tucker a side look and said nothing as he walked out of the room. Carolina stepped aside and watched him go.

"Hey," she said to Tucker. "Are you two alright?"

Tucker had no idea. "We're fine."


	6. Chapter 6

It took the aliens an agonizingly long time to understand they cannot train a human the same way they would fellow Sanghelli. Tucker was a modest 5'6 and without her armor, weighed only 130 pounds. The average Sangehelli warrior was well over six foot and weighed over three hundered pounds. Their strategy in sword play revolved around overpowering their opponent with their weight and height. Since Tucker had neither, they had to improvise.

As the Sanghelli adjusted to Tucker's body, they taught her many of their basic katas, educating her on the strength of the sword and its history. By the time Tucker was done playing Ambassedor, she was what the aliens considered 'adequate.'

It was a bit insulting, but she was grateful for the training. At least now when she used her sword, she wasn't waving it around like a feather duster.

Tucker was in one of the many training rooms the Feds had on their bases. Compared to the New Republic, these training rooms were so white and fancy and _new_. It was like they've never been used before. She was alone, going through the katas over and over, and feeling like a total badass bitch. She's had this sword for nearly ten years now and it still felt fucking awesome to activate it.

She was in the middle of one particular tricky kata which involved her bending down, rolling forward and slashing at he same time, when she heard the door to the room open. She glanced over, saw Wash, and continued in her training. "You've ignored me for the past twelve hours," Tucker said. "I'm not in the mood for bullshit right now."

"It's Mitchell."

Tucker paused in mid-step. She turned to face him. "What?"

"My last name," Wash said. "Mitchell. David Mitchell."

Tucker stared at him. She sniffled and said, "That's gotta be one of the most common names on the fucking planet. Why was that so difficult to-?"

"Tucker, you have to understand something. When I joined Project Freelancer, they took everything. My name, my birthdate, my entire existence was wiped away like I was never born. This was done to protect my family, to ensure no one can go after them if I am captured. They think I'm _dead_. So please understand why I didn't tell you."

Biting her lip, Tucker deactivated her sword, clasping the hilt to her belt. "Dude, you could've just told me your last name was like, top secret and shit. I would've understood that."

He shrugged tiredly. "You had a point. We really don't know much about each other."

"When's the last time you saw your family?"

"Uh... nearly... nearly fifteen years now. Yeah."

"Do you get updates...?"

"No," he paused. "I think I prefer not to. Knowing I can never talk to them... it's too hard."

"Dude, that sucks."

"Yeah..."

As long as Tucker has known Wash, he's always had black bags under his eyes. It was like he was tired all the time. No matter how hard Tucker tried, no matter how exhausted she made him after sex, he only allowed himself a few hours of sleep every night. Sometimes she would catch him wandering the halls, staring off into the distance with an unfocused gaze. When asked why he would do that, Wash would shrug and say, "Just... thinking."

Tucker has always attributed his restlessness to his Freelancer training, and to his experience with Epsilon. Now she wondered if he spent those times thinking about his sisters and his parents. Tucker hasn't seen Junior in nearly a year now and that _killed_ her. At least she was comforted by the fact Junior was being protected by giant fucking Elites who swore to protect him with their lives. Wash didn't have that. He had nothing.

"Look, Wash... er, David... huh, Wash-David... David-Wash..." Tucker began stupidly. "I didn't mean what I said earlier, about the whole, not-your-girlfriend thing. I like you, like... a lot."

"Tucker, you sound like you're sixteen."

"You spent all these years with us and you honestly expect a certain amount of maturity? Good luck with that. Dude, I like you and I like having sex with you and I like the way you make me feel. I guess that does make me your girlfriend. I got defensive this morning when you called me out on my crap and I'm sorry shit got so dramatic between us."

"Well," Wash shrugged. He cocked his head, considering something, then said, "Actually, I like it when you do things like that. I've never been so entertained. Holy crap, thinking about, I don't think I've been bored once since I've met the Reds and Blues. That's amazing. You guys are amazing."

"Are you talking about me, or the guys, because I was feeling pretty flattered up until you started imply the relationship with me is no different than that with the Reds."

"Eh, both of you drive me nuts equally."

"You bitch," Tucker said. She grabbed her shirt and swiftly pulled it over her head. "I'm going to make you scream, David-Wash."

And just like that, the melancholy that darkened Wash's face melted away. He grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'd like to see you try."

 

 

 

 

 

 

"... so I really didn't care if my mom liked sex, but what I hated was how she spent more time at the guy's place than at home. I'd come home from school and there'll be no one there at the house. There was no food, nothing was washed, and I was the one who had to deal with the landlord over rent. God, it still pisses me off to this day."

Wash and Tucker laid together on the padded training floor, legs intwined, their clothes and armor scattered around them. The only thing kept within arm's reach was the sword.

"It was one of the reasons why I joined the military," Tucker continued as she idly played with Wash's fingers. She rubbed the rough skin, bent the joints to see which of his fingers had been broken in the past. "I needed to get away from all that crap."

"You've been in the military for a few years now," Wash said. "Has your attitude towards her changed at all?"

"She... a little, yeah. She's making more of an effort to be a grandmother now. When Junior isn't acting as alien-Jesus, he's at grandma's, eating cookies and being coddled. He loves the attention."

They lulled into comfortable silence. Tucker didn't want to get up from this. She was so comfortable, so warm. She felt a little guilty though. She was suppose to be training, not spend most of the morning shagging.

"You're going out tomorrow on a mission?" Wash suddenly asked.

Tucker hummed. "Yeah. With Carolina. There's an alien temple the mercenaries are guarding. The numbers are small, so she thinks we can take them easily."

"I have no doubt you will. But before you go, I have a question to ask you..." He reached up to grab at his belt laying discarded on the mat. He pulled it close and opened one of the small side pockets.

He pulled out a ring.

Tucker immediately sat up. "Wash, is that what I think it is...?"

"It is," he said, sitting up as well. He held out the ring between finger and thumb towards her. "I had Lopez make it for me."

The ring was made out of three thin strips of iron, curled around each other in an elaborate braid. Like everything Lopez has ever made, it was perfect in its design.

Tucker swallowed dryly. Her heart was beating so fiercely, she could feel it pound against her ears. "Wash..."

"Tucker, I know our relationship isn't the most conventional one, but considering everything we've been through, I don't expect it to. Even if you don't say _yes_ , I want you to know how I feel, what you mean to me-"

"You think I'm going to die tomorrow." Tucker said suddenly.

"WHAT?" Wash squealed. "No, I don't!"

"You do! You asked about my mission and now you're getting all sentimential and shit!"

"No! Tucker, look, you were one of the best people I ever knew-"

" _What's with the past tense bullshit?!_ "

"Jesus-! Tucker, before anything else can go wrong, will you fucking marry me?"

"Yes, you asshole!"

"Oh, thank Christ."


	7. Chapter 7

"Remember, Tucker, I've known Wash for a very, very long time. Longer than you. So I am obligated to say this. If you hurt him in any shape or form, I will hurt you. And then after I'm done hurting you, however long that takes, I will kill you, and nobody in the entire galaxy will ever find your body. Understand?"

Carolina's breath was hot against Tucker's ear, and Tucker was lying if that didn't turn her on a bit. Carolina was smiling gently as she pulled back, her eyes twinkling mischeviously, and though she meant it as a joke, Tucker knew she would keep that promise. "You're a very scary woman, Carolina."

Carolina patted Tucker's cheek affectionally. "Good," she said. "But seriously, I am very happy for you and Wash. It's about time that boy got some happiness."

"Boy? Isn't he older than you?"

"If Sarge doesn't keep his finger off that trigger, I will be older."

Off to the side, the guys had Wash pushed up against the wall. Sarge had his shotgun tucked right underneath Wash's chin. Grif and Simmons stood on each side, looming over Wash like 1930 gangsters, while Church hovered over Sarge's shoulder menacingly. Caboose held back and took pictures. "This is going on Basebook!" He announced happily.

"C'mon, you guys..." Wash squeaked out. "Aren't you taking this a bit too far?"

Church turned to Simmons. "Simmons?"

"Right." Simmons took out his pistol and shoved it right up against Wash's crotch.

"Now, Agent Washington," Church continued. "I want you to be aware this is only a mere taste of what you'll experience if we ever found out you hurt Tucker. If you break her heart-"

"Blamo," Sarge said, digging the shotgun deeper under Wash's chin.

"-if you hurt her in any shape or form-"

"Blamo!"

"-if you cheat on her, lie to her, make her do something she doesn't want to do-"

"BLAMO!"

"Yeah!" Said Grif. "Also, we saw her naked first!"

"C'mon, you guys!" Wash yelled. "Is any of this really necessary?"

"No, but we're obligated to do so. And it's fun. So remember, you hurt Tucker, Simmons gets to shoot off your dick."

"Blamo!" Said Simmons.

Tucker couldn't resist. "Oh! And he has to have sex with me every night as well!"

"Tucker, I'm almost forty! I can't keep up with that!

"Then what good are you?"

Once the final threats were made and the guns were put away, Wash got handshakes, and several rounds of congratulations were said to the couple. It felt amazing to smile so much, to forget that outside these walls was death and destruction and evil mercenaries hell bent on seeing them all killed. Even if it was for only a few hours, all of those problems melted away into the background.

"I want to be the ring bearer," Caboose announced suddenly. "I want to wear a tuxedo and be called Frodo. That's my only request."

Wash and Tucker shared uncomfortable looks. "Sorry, Caboose, we're not having a formal wedding," said Wash. "Tucker needs to leave tomorrow for a mission and we don't how long that'll take. We're going to ask Doyle if he can officiate-"

There was a sudden high pitched scream that sounded like a woman being murdered. Everyone twisted around, startled.

Donut pointed a heated finger towards Wash. "NO, THAT WILL NOT DO!"

"Whoa, Donut, what the fuck-!"

"THERE WILL BE A WEDDING. THERE WILL BE FLOWERS AND CAKE AND A DRESS, GODDAMN IT!"

"Donut, we don't have the resources-!"

"IF YOU THINK I'M GOING TO WASTE THE THREE-RING BINDER I HAVE FILLED WITH SKECTHES AND FABRIC SWATCHES, YOU'RE INSANE! LOPEZ! FOLLOW ME!" He took off running down the hall.

"Mierda..." Lopez groaned, then ran after him.

"I've seen that three-ring binder," Sarge said to Tucker. "And I wish to Red Team God to unsee it."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Doyle was delighted to officiate. "Oh dear me, I am more than honoured to celebrate your union! Goodness, it feels wonderful to celebrate something so lovely, something other than battle victories. When do you wish the ceremony to be performed...?"

"As soon as possible," Wash said. "We're going to be separated tomorrow for individual missions."

"Also, we're trying to avoid Donut," Tucker added in. "So like, marry us right now."

Doyle looked over the small crowd of Reds and Blues. "Are you sure? Miss Kimball will be back in another hour, and your lieutenants aren't here, and surely there's somebody here who can give you away-"

"No, now. It has to be now. Now, now, now-"

"I GOT EVERYTHING REEEEEEEEEEEEEADY!" Donut's cheery voice echoed down the hallway.

"Oh, fuck me..."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tucker kept staring. She couldn't believe her eyes and turned to Carolina, pointing uselessly at the dress. "You're seeing this too, right?"

"I... am," Carolina said uncertainly.

Within the twenty minutes Donut had disappeared with Lopez, he had made a wedding dress. It had lace and folds and little white buttons travelling up the back. It had a train, and decorated beads, and it even came with shoes to match. "How?" Tucker said, reaching out to touch the dress. The fabric felt soft under her fingers. "Donut, you were gone for less than a half hour! Just... how?"

Donut shrugged. "Well, Lopez helped."

"Where did you even get the material?" Carolina asked. "Doyle and Kimball have verbal fights every morning concerning our supplies."

"I made it out of toilet paper!" Donut beamed. "Oh, speaking of that, Tucker, you'll need to give back your dress after the wedding. For, you know, the toilets."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I only went to one wedding during Project Freelancer," Carolina said as she buttoned up the back. "It was between Agent Virginia and Arizona. They were an older couple, and they had been partners for years. Freelancer partners, I mean. And then one day out of the blue, they decided to tie the knot. It was a short, sweet ceremony. After that, both of them retired and I never saw them again. Sometimes I still think about them, wondering where they are and if they're happy."

"What about you? Would you ever consider getting married?" Tucker asked.

Carolina bent down to puff out the train, smoothing out the wrinkles. She shrugged. "I've been so focused on being a Freelancer, I never really gave myself goals beyond that. Maybe... in a few years I'll consider it. Now, let's see what we have here..."

She stepped back to inspect her work, smiling as she did so. "You look amazing."

For most of her life, Tucker always considered herself, 'sexy.' She knew she was good looking, and often used her looks to her advantage. As she stepped in front of the mirror, she didn't feel sexy. She felt beautiful. "Oh holy shit."

The dress fit perfectly on her. She's never worn a formal dress in her life, only skirts. Giving into a girlish urge, Tucker twirled on the spot, allowing the dress to furl around her. She stopped and the dress bloomed out like a flower. "I can't believe this toilet paper."

"Yeah, so you better stay away from water or else the whole dress might melt," Church's voice suddenly popped up.

Tucker screamed. "Jesus Christ! Church, what the fuck! You've been here the whole time?"

The holographic AI gave a little snort. "Oh, don't be so offended. Carolina told me to log off until you two were done acting girly. But, huh... Tucker, I gotta say... I agree with Carolina. You look pretty good in that dress."

"Heh," Tucker ducked her head, blushing. "Thanks, man."

"You ready to do this?"

"Fuck yeah."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tucker never expected to get married. Girls like her didn't get the traditonal happy endings. They got pregnant, raised kids they resented, all the while having short-term boyfriends who only stuck around for convenient sex. That was the life Tucker expected to have. It was the life her mother had, it was the life her grandmother had. Tucker knew nothing else.

"Do you... er, Agent, take... huh, Captain Tucker here to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," said Wash, his eyes dancing.

"Then do you, Captain Tucker, take-"

"I do," said Tucker. From somewhere within the audience, Palomo yelled out, "You get it, girl!"

"Oh my," Doyle said. "Then with the power invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may-"

Wash had been expecting it, but it still caught him off-guard as Tucker grabbed him by the lapels of his black suit ("I made it out of old car tires!" Donut said happily) and pulled him in for a kiss.

The whole room exploded in yells and glees. Though the Rebels and the Feds were sitting on opposite sides, refusing to mix, their enthusiasm were all the same. Jensen was crying her eyes out, Andersmith was too, while Bitters clapped politely. Kimball was clapping politely as well, but she was laughing, enjoying everyone's reactions. Palomo kept whooping.

Tucker pulled away finally, her grin promising more later, and hand in and hand, she and Wash turned to face their friends. In front of everyone stood the Reds and Blues. They weren't clapping or yelling. Instead they looked oddly satisfied, nodding in smug agreement.

"Hurry it up, you two," Grif said, smiling. "I want a slice of that cake Donut made."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: The only reason I wrote the wedding was because I knew Donut would demand one.


	8. Chapter 8

"See you on the other side, Church."

Tucker never thought her life would turn out this way. It sounded cliche' to say it, but it was true. Nearly thirteen years ago she was stuck in a box canyon, bored out of her mind, hating every second of it. She wanted to be anywhere except there, and would have done anything to get away from the idiot Reds and Blues.

Today here she stood, surrounded by the bravest, most truthworthy men she has ever met. No matter their flaws, they stood by side by side, strong and proud.

In Tucker's right hand she held the energy sword, the symbol of her warrior status and of her son. On her left, hidden under the military kevlar, was her wedding ring. Wash wasn't here, standing by her, and she was fine with that. Someone needed to stay behind, to see it through all the way.

Despite the size and how bulky it looked, the Meta suit was light. It made her feel strong. Was this how Carolina felt all the time, with Epsilon backing her? Amazing. Tucker wished she could've talked to Carolina more about this.

There so much more Tucker had wanted to do, should've done. She wanted to talk to Kimball, to thank her for her courage and confidence. She wanted to see Junior one last time, to properly give him the sword. She wanted-

Ah, there was no time for wants and regrets.

The armor felt alive, and Tucker knew it was, with Chruch coursing through it like blood through veins. Wash may be her husband, but Church was her best friend, and she knew he would see her and everyone through this.

She just needed to have faith.


End file.
